


Close to the Stars

by kenobee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: But He Will Be Sweet I Promise, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, F/M, He Doesn’t Know How To Handle His Feelings, Obi-Wan Is An Ass, Occasional angst, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenobee/pseuds/kenobee
Summary: Obi-Wan knows he's one of the best in the galaxy. Being on the Jedi council at his age only fuels his concealed arrogance. He likes how secure his position on the council is, and he likes how the Coruscant sun warms his back while he sits in council. He doesn't appreciate that the council decides to add another bright Jedi knight, who happens to be you. . . in his seat.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Reader (Platonic), Ben Kenobi/You, Kit Fisto/Reader (Platonic), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader, Obi-Wan Kenobi/You, Padme Amidala/Reader (Platonic), Plo Koon/Reader (Platonic), Yoda (Star Wars)/Reader (Platonic), ben kenobi/reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	1. Langour - Sneak Peak

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone and thank you for taking the time to read into this! I originally started posting the beginning of this series on tumblr, but I took a break and I am just now returning to the writing community. I'm not sure how fast updates will be, but I will try to update bi-weekly! For now, enjoy this sneak peak between Platonic!Padme Amidala x Jedi!Reader.

Languor: lethargy or weakness in body and mind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“It’s a wonder how the Jedi council hasn’t caught wind of you and Anakin’s relationship.”

The senator from Naboo stills at your words, but she quickly regains her composure and gives you a confused smile over her shoulder. She takes a sip from her glass, fingers shifting against the cup before turning her body to face you.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she responds, head tilting faintly as she observes your features. She’s confused, truly, and by the way her face began to flush, you know your answer.

You shift in your seat, propping your elbow up on the armrest of the couch, casting your gaze to the landscape outside her room.

It’s pretty, without a doubt. The Coruscanti sun is barely beginning to dip into the horizon, melting the sky into a plethora of oranges and reds. You hum softly and shake your head.

“Don’t play coy with me Padmé.”

She laughs uneasily.

“I’m not trying to.”

Your gaze returns on to her and you give her a look, eyes narrowing pointedly and a brow raising questioningly. Her facade crumbles underneath your gaze and she looks almost hopeless, but yearning.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” she begs, walking over and settling beside you on the plush couch. She sets her drink down on the glass table side, her soft, dainty hands finding yours and holding them. “As my friend, I ask you not to.”

You’re ready to laugh at how easy she was to exhort, but the seriousness in her face stopped you from doing so. You shake your head and look at her in wonder.

“You two are, by far, the worst secret keepers in the galaxy.” She laughs and you chuckle, a smile raising the corners of both your lips. She sighs longingly, tearing her hands away from yours and to her cup, gulping down the remnants. “I mean– seriously?”

Padmé gently hits your shoulder and shakes her head, another disbelieving laugh spilling from her lips, “I can’t help it. I’m so hopelessly in love with him.”

You can’t help but notice the twinkle in her eyes when she mentions Anakin. You smile despite the heavy feeling in your stomach.

She suddenly turns to you, “What about you?”

Your brows furrow at her question.

“What about me?”

Padmé rolls her eyes at you and raises her brows, her head shaking, “Is there anyone I should know about?”

You laugh and shift in your seat, reaching for the untouched glass of wine she left for you. You sip it tentatively and make a satisfied face at the sweetness.

“Of course not. Jedi are forbidden to have attachments– I mean, with the exception of Anakin, of course.” You look at her and already see the discontent on her face. You quirk a brow in defiance, but a sigh leaves you when she deepens her stare. She gets up to refill her glass.

She sips, then turns, “Not even a certain Jedi general we both know?”

You know she’s talking about Obi-Wan. Your face betrays you and she smirks victoriously. She returns to her spot beside you on the couch.

“That’s nothing. Just a..” you trail off, looking away from her and surveying the room– like it would fathom the words for you, “work friend. We respect each other.”

“He speaks highly of you,” she tries, her tone light and teasing. As much as you adored her, you hated that voice.

You shake your head, “simply because he finally understands I’m not some damsel in distress he needs to look out for.”

She continues to give you a look, the same one you gave her just moments ago. You sigh and look down shamefully.

“I don’t know.”

Padmé takes in a breath to steady herself, “what does your heart tell you?”

It’s cliche, you have to admit, but there’s a sudden weight on your shoulders when she asks. She notices and gives you a sympathetic frown, her hand coming up to squeeze your shoulder. Her thumb rubs reassuring circles into your clothing, letting you know that your secret's safe with her.

“I hate his arrogance and his self–righteousness,” you start, your brows furrowing as you start letting out the much needed steam, “I hate that he’s right– which is almost all the time.”

You pause. Your fists grips onto the loose fabric of your dark robes, balling them into fists.

“I hate his condescending tone whenever he speaks to me– like I’m inferior– or when he says something and makes me look stupid in front of my troops,” you vent, voice full of frustration. You sigh and release your robes from your clutch, fingers rubbing at your temple. Shamefully, you add, “But even through all that.. he’s charming.. and handsome.”

Padmé stays silent as she listens. Her hand falls from your shoulder and folds neatly in her lap. She’s observing you, watching your face twitch into a frown.

“How does he feel?” She quietly asks. You shrug your shoulders and release a sad laugh. Padmé is surprised.

“I’m sure he thinks I’m vile.”

Padmé disagrees, but doesn’t push it.

“Something happened, I assume?” The senator whispers, leaning toward you. You nod and she releases a sigh.

“I confronted him. He said no.”

It’s her turn to frown. When she opens her mouth to say something, you beat her to it.

“Padmé, I feel like an idiot– a failure.” Your words are hushed and laced with raw emotion, tears already beginning to collect in your eyes. You suck in a breath, your hands wringing each other. “I shouldn’t be feeling this way, and I know I shouldn’t. It’s not the Jedi way.”

“It’s what makes you human, dear (Y/N),” Padmé softly coos, her hand on your back as she shifts closer. “Love is essential to all living things.”

You stay silent, absorbing her words. You don’t notice the stray tear falling until her finger comes up to wipe it away.

You swallow, “I loved once Padmé. She died in the battlefield.”

“Your padawan?” She whispers–an educated guess. You nod solemnly.

You stifle a mock laugh, “Great Maker, I couldn’t even train her right. What makes them think I’m fit to be on the council?”

Her arms instinctively wrap around you as you weep, your barricades crashing down with the resurfaced memories of your late padawan and the reoccurring feeling of being unfit. You shake, clutching her arms.

“You are one of the best Jedi I’ve ever met, (Y/N). You’re kind, compassionate, and you listen. You don’t let your laws dictate you– you do what’s right, whether it’s the Jedi way or not.” Your cries stifle at her comforting words, sniffles dancing in the still air. “Don’t let some snide comments from a man let you think any different.”

You’re grateful, truly. But the emptiness in the pit of your stomach still lingers.

The air within the heavy room soon dissipates at the sound of clattering objects. Both of your heads raise and turn to the source.

You feel sick to your stomach.

It’s Obi-Wan, with his mouth hanging open and looking as pale as ever.


	2. Chagrin

Chagrin: to feel distressed or embarrassed by failing or being humiliated.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Captain Ace, do you copy?”

Your words are melted into a soft moan of pain, the throbbing in your temple becoming more and more apparent. In your ear, you hear white static, the comm device in your ear cutting out before beeping sadly.

A curse spills from your lips and your face screws into a wince at the pain. Your eyes squint as you survey the dim room, your mouth twitching into a frown at the sight of a plasma door. Outside it, the sound of metallic feet scuffing against the floor is heard and blurs of beige is seen as battle droids pass.

You attempt to move your hand, but a feeling of soreness shoots up your arm. Your frown only deepens when your gaze follows the dark outline of your arm; you notice it’s bent into an odd direction and there’s a plasma chain link binding your wrists together.

You close your eyes and focus, evening your breathing as you attempt to use the Force. Your hand flexes and your fingers curl slightly.

Nothing moves and it’s only then when you notice the lingering feeling of the Force has left you. The air is cold and still when you try once more. You try once more.

Nothing.

A frustrated sigh leaves you and you tug against the restraints once more, a low hiss spewing behind clenched teeth. Your head perks at the sound of the plasma barrier deactivating accompanied with approaching footsteps. The smug voice reaches your ears and fills your gut with dread. You knew exactly whose voice it was.

“(Y/N),” his tone is laced with blooming curiosity, “One of the greatest generals in the Grand Army of the Republic.”

He spits the name out like it’s poison on his tongue.

“How interesting it is for you to be locked up in my cell.” He moves forward, black cloak flowing around him. He soon reaches the light, where a scowl rests on his porcelain features. A glint on his hip catches your attention– your lightsaber. “Not so great now, are you?”

You shift in your position to get more comfortable, tugging at the restraints to test their durability once again. You hoped they would have loosened. He notices and releases a huff, one that could almost pass for him laughing. You force a smile on your lips and look up at him.

“Ah, Count Dooku. What Serennian backwater hole did you crawl out of?” He doesn’t respond, but the downward twitch of his lip makes you press on. “The last time I heard you were on Geonosis, running away with your tail tucked between your legs–” you gasp dramatically as if realizing, “I wonder if your master was proud.”

His composed expression almost immediately melts at your taunt, his lips curling back to reveal a faint snarl. He’s livid. You smile smugly, your shoulders shrugging slightly as you mumble an empty apology.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

He ignores you.

“You should’ve joined me when you had the chance, General. We wouldn’t be in this situation.” Your nose wrinkles with disgust as he takes a turn about the room, his hands clasping behind his back. “You could’ve been a Lady of the Sith!”

You roll your eyes at his declaration. When was there ever a Lady Sith?

“Lady?” You spit, the title already foreign on your lips. Your brows knit together, “I would be cast aside like your apprentice, Ventress– or.. how about Maul? How you threw him out the window after his.. incident all those years ago. Did he even survive? The poor sod.”

The Count recoils at the mention of his apprentice, but a disappointed sigh leaves his lips at the mention of Maul. He makes no immediate comment, only finishing his walk before standing tall in front of you.

“Yes, yes, but you could’ve been more. They’re insignificant pieces of the puzzle– they’re fools.”

He watches a flicker of trained doubt pass through your gaze– satisfaction beginning to settle in his veins.

You’re tempted to respond when static sizzles in your ear.

“General? General, if you can hear me–” Captain Ace’s voice cuts off, the sound of white noise taking its place before it cuts off into silence. Your stomach begins to bubble with excitement.

“And this puzzle,” you comment, your brow quirking faintly, “What role do you have? It mustn’t be important.”

Dooku almost snarls at your question, an angry storm brewing in his dark irises. He couldn’t believe you’d ask such a provoking question as if he would reveal his master’s grand plan– the plan he didn’t even know.

He falters and you take notice. You suppress a laugh.

“Do you even know?” Your words are laced with an amusement that he loathes.

He glares at you and it’s enough to show the answer.

You click your tongue at him, shaking your head gently as you do so, “Who would’ve thought, Dooku.” You shift in your seat, peeking around his frame in an attempt to glance at the plethora of drones behind him– tending to their duties, unaware of what is about to happen. “You don’t even know your own grand plan.”

“I have full faith in my master.”

You’re surprised. As much as the news would bring dread, the council was right about their suspicions. There was more to the puzzle than just Dooku, Ventress and Grievous. It was like a spider's web— intricately woven and almost transparent to the Order’s eyes.

The sound of blaster fire tears you away from your thoughts and forces Dooku to whip around. He releases a vexed growl, his hands reaching for his lightsaber.

It’s only then you hear the soft thud of feet against the ground and the strength of your restraints disappear. The feeling of the force returns, colliding back with your being. Your hand immediately reaches out for your lightsaber– it tears away from his belt and flies back into your hand. You rise to stand on your feet, steading yourself before igniting your weapon.

Your lightsaber proudly lights up the room, battling the scarlet hue of Dooku’s lightsaber. He turns around slowly at the sound and hesitates when your saber edge is inches away from his chest. Your brow raises slowly– daring him to make a move.

He deactivates his saber and drops it to the ground, his hands raising in the air once he notices he’s surrounded. A smirk tugs the corners of your lips upward as you realize the victory you just secured. Your saber slithers back into its chamber when your troopers bind his hands with cufflinks. They escort him out of the room and in walks another Jedi.

“General. I believe you know General Obi-Wan Kenobi?” Captain Ace speaks suddenly, his hand motioning towards him.

When he steps into the light, you can’t help but notice how much he had grown. He’s ruggedly handsome now– tanned features adorned with freckles. Soot covers his features and you notice his unruly auburn hair. You can’t help but smile; It reminds you of the padawan you knew so long ago.

The surprise that washes over his face is enough to shake you from your trace. Your head shakes and a nostalgic feeling brews in your stomach. You’re tempted to bombard him with questions about his life, but you stop when he crosses his arms.

“Obi-Wan. It’s nice to see you.” Instead of a warm greeting you had hoped for, you’re met with a small, formal nod. He turns his head and motions for his troops to carry on.

“You as well,” he responds and tosses his head towards Dooku. “Great work, by the way. I’ll be your escort to Coruscant.” He gives you a curt nod before departing. Your mouth opens to say something, but he’s already out the door.

You give Captain Ace a confused look and he shrugs, sharing the same look.

“Beats me,” he mutters before following the Jedi general. You look about the room before going after them.

It’s not long before you leave the stench of Dooku’s ship and return to the bustling city of Coruscant, where the sun is beginning to mix the cerulean sky into a sea of tangerine and peach as it makes its way toward the horizon.

You’re torn away from your thoughts when Obi-Wan approaches you, his head gently motioning in the direction you’re supposed to head.

“Come on then, we shouldn’t keep the council waiting.”

Your nose wrinkles at his disparaging tone but you follow him anyway, your eyes observing his figure. He’s taller than you remember–and instead of wearing tan robes, he’s fitted with cream-colored armor.

“How have you been, Obi-Wan?” You ask suddenly, now side by side with him when you pick up your pace. He turns his head to glance at you, a questioning brow raising. Under his blue gaze you suddenly become nervous– was that not an appropriate question to ask? “It’s been years since I’ve last seen you.”

He doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t like this. It’s different.

He seems to debate about it internally before he replies, “I’ve been well.” You can’t tell if it’s a white lie or simply the truth.

The conversation ends there; short and abrupt. An uncomfortable silence settles over the two of you and you start to regret even talking. You wonder why he reacted in such a way, but your train of thought was interrupted when Obi-Wan walks through the Council Room door.

A frown tugs the corner of your lips down but you clear your throat as you enter. The conversation that was taking place suddenly ceases, their voiced concerns about the Republic victory against the Separatists long forgotten when you and Obi-Wan come into view. Master Yoda is the first to speak.

“Waited patiently, have we. To Coruscant and to the council, back we welcome you, Master (L/N).”

A small smile replaces your neutral expression and you nod your head in silent thanks towards the older Jedi. You glance at Obi-Wan before surveying the room around you, allowing the familiar faces to reassure you. Master Plo Koon, Master Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Master Kit Fisto are the only holograms present.

You notice that the Coruscant sun is only now beginning to dip below the horizon from the tall windows; cascading the room into a soft orange glow. It’s comforting, to say the least, and you return your gaze back to the Jedi Councilors. You step forward and open your mouth to begin your debriefing, but Obi-Wan clears his throat.

“Councilors, if I may,” he pauses slightly, a breath spilling from his parted lips, “Speak freely?”

He knows it’s bold, but the sudden doubtful feeling brews in his stomach and makes the words come out quicker than he can stop them.

They give each other sideways glances before Master Yoda eventually nods. He turns his head to give you a look and rolls his head to shoulders back to stand tall– an attempt to make himself look more collected than he feels.

“While Master (L/N) is an esteemed Jedi– a very remarkable character for someone her age who gave us the location of Count Dooku–“ His voice is interrupted when Master Windu speaks up, annoyance laced in his deep tone.

“What is your point, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan shifts uneasily, obviously nerved by the interference, “I–,” he pauses once again, “I wonder why she is on this council. She is reckless and gets herself into situations she could have avoided if she used her training right–”

Mace Windu adjusts in the plush seat and Obi-Wan’s voice trails off as he leaves his thoughts incomplete. A few councilors had turned their head to observe your face– they’re not surprised when they see your mouth hanging open with shock ridden all over your features.

You feel an irritated anger bubble in your stomach at the realization of what he had just accused you of.

This time, it’s Master Yoda who speaks up on your behalf.

“Consider the thought, what her job is, have you not?” As the green-skinned Jedi speaks, his furry brows knit together and his fingers move against the small stick he holds. Confusion radiates off of Obi-Wan as a small, singular sideways shake of his head answers Master Yoda’s question. “Not think so, I did.”

“Master (L/N) serves as an occasional spy to the interests of the Jedi Order. She puts herself in these situations for the greater good and is more than well equipped to handle herself in said situations,” Windu’s points out, his tone dripping with evermore annoyance. Obi-Wan’s mouth opens to protest, but he closes it and nods respectfully. “Now, shall we get to the matter we came here to discuss?”

He’s embarrassed and a sense of idiocy crawls underneath his skin. It’s strong enough to make him want to fly out of the window and into the early crepuscular Coruscanti traffic– that would’ve been less painful than this.

Obi-Wan steps back when he notices you step forward. You send him a glare as you pass, but stand tall in front of your peers. It’s your attempt to show him that what he said doesn’t bother you, even though the anger boils deep beneath.

“When I spoke to Count Dooku before I was.. miraculously rescued,” you trail off, glancing over your shoulder to once again send a glare to the Jedi Guardian behind you, “He revealed to me that there is a bigger plot than we anticipated. I believe that there is someone more powerful than Dooku or Ventress playing with all of us.”

The air around you goes still and cold as your news breaks through the previous tension. The Master’s around you move in their seats, sending each other worried glances– Master Yoda looks most troubled out of them all.

“Learn a name, did you?” He asks, looking up.

You shake your head, “I suspect it’s the same Darth Sidious we’ve been hearing whispers about.”

“Very troubling news, this is,” Master Yoda comments, his hand coming up to gently stroke the faint, graying hairs on his chin. You stay quiet as the Jedi Master’s around you confer, their voices full of concern and concealed fear.

You shift your weight between your feet when Master Yoda raises a hand to signal silence, “Make rash decisions, we mustn’t. Take some time to think, we should.”

The Jedi around you murmur words of agreement.

“Conclude this meeting, that does.” The present body’s of the other Jedi Master’s rise and bid quiet goodbye’s to each other while Masters Plo Koon, Kit Fisto, and Ki-Adi-Muni all dissipate, their figures leaving the air around them empty. “Not you, Master Kenobi and Master (L/N).”

Master Yoda’s voice stops you in your retreating tracks and forces you to turn around, confusion etched across your face. Obi-Wan spares you a glance but hesitantly returns to your side. Master Windu and Master Yoda watch the other Jedi depart before returning their attention back to you.

“We’re tasking you two with going to Corellia and extracting what information you can. We’ve heard rumors about some.. commotion in their locality. You can learn to,” Master Windu pauses for a moment as he crosses his arms– as if he was trying to search for the words, “settle your.. differences whilst you’re doing so. What’s going on between you two is unacceptable and won’t be tolerated on this council.”

As much as it pleased you to see his face redden and watch him physically bristle at the mission Master Windu explained– a frown almost broke your amused expression when you realized that it bothered him, almost like how his obviously repulsed countenance bothered you.

The stern look Master Windu gave you was enough to keep your mouth shut. Instead, your head bobbed solemnly at his words. It was embarrassing enough to have Obi-Wan comment on your skills as a Jedi on the council, but to be scolded by your former master as if you were some overaged padawan?

Somehow, it was worse. The feeling only seemed to burrow itself deeper into your heart as you tried to swallow it down.

Beside you, Obi-Wan looks just as perplexed– hands wringing each other as his body barely sways side to side, the remnants of a blush creeping up on his exposed neck. He nods his head almost shamefully.

“Now, off you two go.” Master Windu uncrosses one of his arms, his hand making a shooing motion between you. You seize the moment to bow your head, turning hot on your heels and retreating to the comforts of being away from their gaze.

You release a long-held sigh and inhale fresh air, the trembles of bitterness slowly leaving your being. You almost jump in freight when you hear Obi-Wan’s voice next to you.

“Tough crowd it’ll be out there,” his voice is low and teasing, his eyes glinting with mischief. The fact he was even trying to converse with you was surprising.

You scoff and roll your eyes, “For you, sure. I could do this in my sleep. You’ll just slow me down.”

For a split second, a veil of aggravation flares upon his face– but it quickly disappeared just as quickly as it had formed.

“Nonsense– why else would they pair us together?” He questions out loud. You send him a look, your eyes dangerously narrowed and brows moving together.

“Because you’re absolutely incapable of keeping your mouth shut.”

Your jab seems to get on his nerves because he looks taken aback for a moment, his expression quickly melting into an angry one. He huffs slightly and crosses his arms, one brow quirking and the other furrowing.

“I–“ He stutters for a moment, his head shaking slightly as yet another exhale flows from his lips. Through gritted teeth, he adds, “We’ll leave tomorrow.”

The Jedi turns on his heels and practically runs away, his arms uncrossing with fists clenched at his side.

He started a war, but you won the battle.


End file.
